


The Beginning

by uniquepov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-11
Updated: 2010-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Draco found some comfort in his torment during 6th year? (a prequel to <a href="http://uniquepov.livejournal.com/2690.html"><i>Leaving Him</i></a>), although both can stand independently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amandioka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandioka/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hot Kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8377) by Amandioka. 



> Written for Phase I of [](http://hawthorn-vine.livejournal.com/profile)[**hawthorn_vine**](http://hawthorn-vine.livejournal.com/)'s Reverse Challenge. My fic was inspired by this amazing art from [Amandioka](http://dramione.org/viewuser.php?uid=469):
> 
> [](http://pics.livejournal.com/uniquepov/pic/0000dcah/)  
>  The piece is entitled _Hot Kiss_ \- isn't it amazing?  
>  (re-posted with artist permission - Thanks, Amandioka!)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I am up to no good; however, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I'm done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it. Some of the dialogue inspired by/approximated from a particular scene in _Notting Hill_.

“Granger, in here!” A hand grabbed her and pulled her through a doorway.

Draco pushed the door shut, then pulled out his wand to cast locking and warding charms. He turned back into the cupboard and leaned his back against the door, breathing hard.

“I think we lost him,” he panted. She whirled to face him, hands on her hips,

“You did that deliberately!” she hissed furiously.

“I did no such thing,” he replied. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” she mused. “But you’re up to something, Malfoy. I can tell.”

“Tsk, tsk, Granger… we were getting along so well, and then you have to be a swot about things,” he said mockingly. Hermione snorted as she surveyed their surroundings. A tiny window let in a pale wash of moonlight, growing somewhat brighter as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“And then you locked me in a broom cupboard, Malfoy,” she retorted. This time, it was Draco’s turn to snort.

“Excuse me? I saved you from Peeves and whatever he’s up to. It’s not like I’m keeping you prisoner or anything. If you think you’re safer out there, feel free to leave. I’m staying here until the coast is clear.”

“Until the coast is clear? It seemed to me as though you were provoking him!”

“And just why –“ he began.

“I don’t know!” she interrupted. “I cannot fathom why you would deliberately provoke a poltergeist. Particularly _this_ poltergeist.” Draco collapsed onto an upturned bucket with a groan. He loosened his tie, tugging it off before he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What on Earth are you doing?” she whispered sharply.

“I’m taking off my shirt,” he replied easily. “Whatever Peeves was tossing about is eating through it.” He shrugged out of the shirt and Hermione found herself staring at the taut muscles in his shoulders and upper arms. He shook out the shirt and held it up for her inspection. “See?”

Hermione tore her eyes from his upper body to look at the large burn marks scattered across the back of the shirt.

“Merlin!” she breathed. “Are you hurt?”

Draco shook his head. After checking her own clothes, she sank onto the small window ledge and sighed. Once again, she found her eyes drawn to him. This time, her gaze lingered on his shoulders before sliding upwards to his face. She blushed as their eyes met and she realised he’d caught her staring.

“See something you like, Granger?” he smirked as her blush deepened. She hastily averted her eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean, Malfoy,” she said, training her eyes on a window pane. Draco stood and took a step towards her, his eyes trying to recapture her gaze.

“It’s alright, you know,” he said quietly. “I like you looking at me.”

She gasped and her eyes flew to his.

“You like -?” she stammered. He nodded calmly, a small smile playing across his lips.

“I like,” he agreed simply.

“I thought you hated me,” she said in confusion.

“I know,” he said. “I’ve given you every reason to think that. But it isn’t true.”

“It’s not?”

“Not anymore.”

“What’s changed?”

“I have.”

“Why?” she wanted to know.

“Granger – did you know that the Dark Lord is not a Pureblood?” Draco looked surprised at Hermione’s nod. He took a deep breath, and explained how his father and aunt Bellatrix had fallen even further under Voldemort’s spell, spending every moment in his presence. Draco himself had been pressed into his service. “When I found out that he wasn’t a Pureblood – it didn’t make sense! It goes against everything I’ve been taught – everything we’re supposed to be fighting for. And now he’s ordered me to do something terrible. Hermione, I can’t do it – but if I don’t, my family and I will be killed.” He sagged against the wall, shoulders slumped despairingly.

“What – what does he want you to do?” she asked quietly.

“I can’t tell you,” he groaned. “It’s all over if anyone else finds out. I don’t know what I’m going to do, or even whether I’ll survive this.” Hermione stared at him as he plunged ahead. “And I – I have feelings for you; I have for a while. I couldn’t admit it, not even to myself – but I was so jealous when I saw you at Slughorn’s party with McLaggen – it was bad enough watching you moon over Weaselbee – and I realized that if I was going to die, I wanted to at least have spent some time with you. That’s why I’ve been sitting at the same table as you in the library. Why I asked to be paired with you in classes.”

“You _asked_ to be paired with me? But – “

“But I was still snarky to you. I know. I had to keep up appearances with the others. Plus, I knew even if I started being pleasant as sunshine to you, you’d still think I was up to something.”

“Well, I’d’ve been right,” Hermione declared. “You _were_ up to something.”

“But just being near you wasn’t enough. I decided I had to tell you how I felt.” He let out a rueful chuckle. “Although, I admit, I didn’t think I would actually get through this little speech – I expected you to have punched me again by now.” He rubbed his jaw, and Hermione snorted.

“You deserved it,” she retorted.

“Probably,” he acknowledged.

“I don’t know why I haven’t, actually. Perhaps because deep down, I might feel the same way,” she mused aloud, surprising them both. “You always got me so worked up when we fought – that wouldn’t have been possible if I didn’t care what you thought of me.” Draco looked at her hopefully, but then his shoulders sagged and he slumped back against the wall. His blond hair glinted and his bare chest seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. Hermione, by contrast, seemed to darken in the dim light – hair a shadowy halo around her head, eyes wide pools of dark chocolate.

“I think this would have been easier if you’d just hit me,” he said resignedly. Hermione nodded.

“I know,” she replied. “It’s not like anything can come of this. No matter how much either of us might want it to.”

He turned towards her, leaning one shoulder against the wall as he reached out his hand and brushed a stray curl away from her face. His hand lingered on her cheek, and she tilted her head toward him.

“We really shouldn’t do this,” she whispered. He looked into her eyes.

“I know,” he responded, as he leaned closer to her. His hand moved from her cheek to stroke her hair.

“There – there are lots of reasons why we shouldn’t,” she stammered. His fingers stroked the back of her neck.

“There _are_ lots of reasons,” he agreed quietly, as he leaned in even closer.

She looked into his eyes, honey brown meeting silvery grey in a moment of earnest truth.

“Oh, sod it,” she whispered, and leaned in the rest of the way, her lips meeting his. Draco responded, lips opening, arms wrapping around her, drawing her close. Hermione tilted her head, arms snaking around his neck. They kissed, tentatively at first, their bodies slowly melting into each other.

Draco gently pushed her back against the window ledge. His hands rested on her hips as he nuzzled her neck, nipping gently at her throat. Her fingers curled in his hair and tugged him upwards, capturing his mouth once more. Conscious thought fled for them both as they lost themselves in each other.

Draco loosened her uniform tie and tugged it off. His fingertips gently unbuttoned her collar, slowly kissing the flesh exposed at the base of her throat. Hermione moaned, leaning her head back against the windowpane, as he slowly, tantalizingly, unbuttoned her blouse, kissing her shoulders as he slid the garment off of her. His chuckle brought her back to herself. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she looked at him questioningly. He traced a finger up along the strap of her dark red bra, ghosting over her shoulder to rest on the small of her back and pull her into him gently.

“I might have known you’d wear Gryffindor colours through and through,” he chuckled in a whisper. She smiled and cupped his face in her hands as she kissed him again.

“I’m very proud of my House, you know,” she grinned.

“Do you have matching knickers?” he teased.

“Never you mind,” she giggled. He grinned. He kept one arm wrapped around her back, and brought the other up to her face. Slowly, he traced her face with his fingertips, gently running over her eyelids, cheeks, nose and lips before tilting her chin up to kiss her again.

A gong reverberated through the castle. Draco groaned.

“Curfew,” he said unnecessarily as he broke their kiss and took a half step backwards. Hermione nodded. She quickly donned her discarded shirt and tie, then took her wand and cast a _Reparo_ on Draco’s damaged shirt. She handed it to him almost shyly.

‘Thanks,” he said quietly as he buttoned up the shirt and stuffed his tie in a pocket. She moved past him towards the door, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her once more, a kiss filled with longing and promises unspoken.

“I’ll never forget this,” he whispered. “And I won’t regret it.”

“Nor will I,” she responded.

“Our secret?” he asked as he reached for the door.

“That depends,” she responded with a small smile.

“On what?”

Hermione pulled out her wand and conjured a small scrap of paper. She placed it in his hand as she stood on tiptoe to place a last, lingering kiss on his lips. She smiled, then slipped out the door.

Draco followed her out of the cupboard and stood watching her disappear down the hall. He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand. As he read it, a smile, genuine and unguarded, played briefly across his lips.

_On whether you can meet me here tomorrow night without being noticed by anyone. 8pm._

As Draco made his way back to the Slytherin common room, he felt the stirrings of an emotion he’d long thought dead.

Hope.


End file.
